Famous Last Words
by Stephane Richer
Summary: I'm out here on the other side of a jet black hotel mirror and I'm so weak.


Famous Last Words

Disclaimer: I own neither Matsuri Hino's manga _Vampire Knight_ nor My Chemical Romance's song "Famous Last Words". Also, ha ha what is canon.

* * *

And it has come now to this.

He can see the anguish in his brother's eyes, hidden deep beneath the narcissim, the bloodlust, the anger and rage, the hate, the resignation. Far below, there is still a flickering candle that refuses to go out. There is still anguish, anguish that stems from love.

Love will tear them apart and sew them together, once again.

He already should have died, long before he was born. He really is worthless, as a brother and as a man. Zero should have devoured him before he possessed any semblance of conscious thought. That would have made everything so much easier, but instead he is here. Ichiru is still here, now, tonight, under the laughing bride of a moon, bright and pure, shining in the distance.

He looks at his unblemished, white palms. He could do nothing, has done nothing with them. What is the purpose of this shell of a body if it is unusable? If it is wracked with tremors whenever he moves a certain way? If it shoves him around and defeats him?

Yes, it has come now to this. Time to finish what Zero never started, what could finally save him.

Zero knows. He knows exactly what is going to happen. The inevitability, which had sunk into Ichiru long before, is bringing him to his knees. He shudders, and it is like Ichiru is looking into a warped mirror in which he is healthy and his brother is extremely weak and sick. A bit...what's the word? Ironic? No, that's not quite right. Now is when Ichiru feels the best, even though his body is at its worst. He cannot remember ever feeling better. He sees the grim world around him with a clarity not present with the usual haze of his sickness.

What will it be like? Is there an other side? Will he be allowed to go there?

He would be dying for Zero's sins. Or Shizuka's. Or both. Would that grant both of them redemption?

Would it give Zero peace of mind? No, not now. But nothing would. And perhaps far down the road (could Zero survive that long?) it could grant him something like that. And now...now, to survive that far he needed Ichiru's sacrifice. Would this be gambling on the lottery? Russian roulette where the magazine is almost filled with bullets? The stars wink and torture him. His mother always told him he'd become a star when he died. His parents are not up there, now. They lied.

His eyes meet Zero's once again. And slowly, hesitantly, he steps toward him. His mirror image, now as troubled by the abyss of sickness as he, does the same. Zero's hair is a little longer, more unkempt. His eyes are red with tiredness and lust (how could they be combined?) but sturdy and steady, holding Ichiru's gaze. Step follows step. Closer, closer, perfectly, inch by inch.

Their hands touch. First their fingertips, then their palms. Identical, still. One less scarred and calloused, more illuminated in the darkness. The moon is directly over them, a spotlight. This is not a play. Ichiru can't help but feel anger at the moon. And yet, he sees Zero's face so much more clearly. The lines, the dark circles, the scratches, caked with dried blood. The resignation on his brother's face, equal to his own. The same shape, the same size, their hands. They should be the same. They should be one. One, resigned, scarred but whole, bitter but still grasping onto straws of hope.

Ichiru has hated his brother. Resented him, loathed him, envied him, despised him, and he is quite sure that his brother has felt the same way about him. Yet throughout everything, Ichiru has wanted, still wants, Zero to achieve and be everything that he himself can never do, will never even get the chance to hear about. And now, finally, Ichiru can rescue his brother from powerlessness. He can finally help instead of just lie there.

Forearms follow hands. Foreheads next. The moon is moving, finally, and the two are bathed in a half-light. It no longer matters to Ichiru as he closes his eyes and breathes in everything. The scent of the night, of Zero in front of him. The wind caressing his torn body. The ground beneath his feet. His brother's skin upon his own. The sound of rustling trees among the deep quiet. The tears begin to flow down his cheeks involuntarily. He doesn't want to go, no matter what it means for his brother. Selfishly, he wants to stay, to live, even if it's just for a few days, hours more. But time is so short, spares no one, that he knows he will never compete with it. Every minute is a minute less for Zero.

And now he is in his brother's arms, wrapped tightly, just like when they were young children, telling scary stories late at night when they were supposed to be sleeping, Ichiru feverish and shivering and Zero wrapping a blanket around the both of them. Things were so simple back then. If only they could have had more time together...

No. They would be spending an eternity entwined. Just hearing Zero's heart beat against his own chest makes Ichiru cry harder. He sobs into his brother's shoulder. No, he must not go out of this world the way he came into it, sobbing weakly. He owes it to his parents, to Shizuka, to Zero, to leave with some semblance of a shred of dignity.

Ichiru lifts his head slowly, looks Zero in the eyes again, and slowly nods.

The fangs hit his neck quickly, and he has no time to scream before everything goes black around him.


End file.
